


His lips were cold

by ZarAlexander



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:16:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8287094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZarAlexander/pseuds/ZarAlexander
Summary: "His lips were cold. Maybe he should have seen it coming, in the middle of a skating rink." (super short oneshot, sad, iffy-con, mild (?) abuse, yaoi, VictorxYuri Plisetsky)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small drabblish thingie that has been stuck in my head since EP 2. Wrote it in 30 minutes.  
> Like all early fanfictions, read it at your own risk, as my idea of the characters, in absence of much exposure, might drastically differ from yours - it's just my interpretation and if you've ever read anything by me, you know I tend to like them dark, abused and possibly broken.
> 
> As usual, despite our negotiations continuing, English still refuses to become my native language. 
> 
> Note: some verbs are purposefully not exactly in accordance with the rest of the period - it's a stylistic choice.

_In the light of somebody else's sky_

_As if we were flipping through the days_

_And the trail was lost in the sand_

_And the ice was melting from within._

 

_There's a wall keeping us from the stars._

 

_(Adaptation/Translation from: “Ангелы” by би2)_

 

His lips were cold.

Maybe he should have seen it coming, in the middle of a skating rink.

Breath heaving and cheeks flushed, all he could do was stare up at that almost ethereal figure looking down at him through half-shut eyelids.

His lips were cold.

As cold as the slits cutting through the rink, as cold as the trails of powdered ice around them, as cold as his inability to raise his head, even just for one second.

“ _Правильно, Юрий._ ” a voice had whispered, softly, and he had been tempted to look up, until a finger had traced the curve of his chin, pushing it until he met ice-blue eyes.

“Well done, Yuri.” he had repeated, slower.

His lips were cold, and they kept getting even colder with each word, with each kiss, with each touch.

“Как хочешь!” he had muttered, hurriedly skating back “Whatever!”

The glass border of the rink hit his back suddenly, making him gasp.

One single move, one gesture and there he was again, in front of him, wrapped in his black training clothes and an equally dark aura.

“No, really, Yuri.” he had murmured, ever so delicately “You did so well, today. I'm proud of you.”

His lips were cold, and they had ghosted down to his neck as expert fingers had unzipped his sweater, sneaking under his shirt and down his pants, trickling down like a spilled glass of icy water.

“ _... Виктор!_ ” he had tried to yell, but his voice was hoarse, broken – scared?

“Victor...” he had repeated, over and over again “Victor...!”

His knees had started trembling as the contact became deeper, more intimate, feverish.

“I'm so proud of you, Yuri... so proud..."

But was he proud of himself? Of what he had accepted to do? Of his compromise, of his price to pay?

“V-Victor...!”

His eyes had filled with tears.

He was approaching the brink of oblivion, so fast that he could already see the ground beneath.

He fell to his knees as he came and there were no arms to stop him, no hands to help him up.

Only a pair of skates drifting away as he cried.

 

 

**\- The End -**


End file.
